I left my passport and a $25 immigration bribe with Ogi’s friend – someone I had never met before. Ten minutes later I jumped in a jeep bound for the Gobi. On the surface this may seem like a foolish thing to do, but this was Mongolia and things are never straight forward.

All Mongol endeavors involve a gamble of sorts. The trick here – as anywhere -  is to separate the gamble from the hustle. I watched Ogi run the day-to-day operations of the Golden Gobi guest house long enough to know I had two things working in my favor for this gamble:  

1. Ogi is a smart business woman. She is in it for the long haul. She saw the bigger picture and $25 plus my passport was not a price of temptation for her.
2. Ogi was a little sweet on me and I half think her marriage proposal was real.

If the gamble paid off I stood to gain an extra few weeks in Mongolia. If I lost, I would be Ogi’s new husband… but somehow I think she would get to wear the pants. Well, it was off to the Gobi and at the very least I wouldn’t need my passport in the desert.

Upon returning from ten days in the Gobi, the whereabouts of my passport and state of my visa was still unresolved. Fortunately, I was presented with yet a third option to remedy the problem: I could pay an additional $25, plus wait one more day and Ogi was sure she could get the extension this time.

Hmmm…  I carefully weighed my options: Either settle down with Ogi in UB or throw another $25 dollars at the problem. What to do?

Being a gambler and a romantic, I decided to throw another $25 at the situation just to see if Ogi and I were truly destined to be married.

As fate would have it, the next day I got a 2 month extension on my visa. Ogi and I were not to have a future together.

Ogi taught me an important addition to the old adage “If you love someone set them free.” 

Apparently for her the saying goes. “If you love someone set them free. But try and get an extra $25 out of them before they go.”

My boyhood dreams of a traditional Mongolian wedding were dashed…